The Fountain

A few years ago, one of my cousins in Wisconsin sent me a digital copy of an old photograph of our great-great-grandparents. It shows them sitting on the ledge of a fountain in a wooded spot with a gazebo nearby and a large building behind them. The photo fascinates me. I have researched the lives of these people for over thirty years, and each year something new is revealed. But here they are, looking at me in through the lens of a camera over 100 years after they died-- a bearded David dressed in his Civil War uniform, and his wife, Bethsheba, dourly dressed in Victorian black from head to toe.

The fountain, itself, is quite distinctive. It is tall with three tiers, each smaller than the one beneath it. Holding up the tiers is a base that has some sort of tall birds facing forward, with wings outstretched and touching each other. A work of art! I used to gaze at the photo, wondering where that fountain might be and how I could go about finding it to take a picture of me sitting in the same place that my g-g-grandparents did.

My daughter, ever the genealogist, always takes the lead in these searches. We knew that David and Bethsheba had lived the last few years of their lives in the Wisconsin Veteran's Home near Waupaca, Wisconsin. With a few little clicks on her computer, she sent a copy of the picture to an email address at the veteran's home. From there, it was forwarded to a couple of people, and within two or three days, we had the answer: the fountain had been on the Home's campus but had fallen into disrepair and removed, although it was in storage somewhere on the grounds. Awwww.... I wouldn't be able to get the picture that I wanted, but at least we knew where my g-g-grandparents were sitting so many years ago--the location of that magnificent fountain!

I've been in northern Illinois visiting my daughter and family for a couple of weeks. Last weekend, kind of as a last-minute thought, we left on a perfectly beautiful day on a drive to Waupaca, Wisconsin, just to walk the grounds where my g-g-grandparents had lived and were buried. It is a three-hour trip, almost exactly. We found the cemetery instantly, and even better, found the graves almost the minute we got there. I've seen pictures of their tombstone, which looked almost unreadable and covered with lichens. This trip, the stone was scrubbed almost pure white! (Thank you to whomever cares enough about the men and women buried there to tend to their tomstones. I appreciate it!)

After touring the cemetery for a few minutes, we drove across the road to the Wisconsin Veteran's Home, looking for where that silly fountain might have been. We were also looking for a statue of a Civil War soldier that appeared in another old family picture, thinking it must surely also be at the Home because the family was attending a "funeral in Waupaca" (which would have been one of the great-greats). Somehow, we entered the Home grounds at an entrance other than the main gate, so we weren't seeing anything promising, but we kept looking. Eventually, we did find the Mother Lode--the ring of a fountain that had been dedicated in 1894, with a gazebo nearby and a large building behind. Eureka! Even the oak trees in the little park matched the ones in the picture. What a feeling that was!

The story of David and Bethsheba has long fascinated me because he left his wife and eight children in Peoria, Illinois, to go off to fight in the Civil War (for the bounty, I am told). He returned, then re-upped in a veteran's volunteer corps. Then his term of service was up and he went home. Unable to find work, he went off to "herd cattle" for a few months in South Dakota, and that was the last anyone heard from him. Awhile later, a man showed up on Bethsheba's doorstep saying that David had been killed by Indians in SD, so she was left to fend for herself and her eight kids. She couldn't read or write, and had no skills. I'm sure life wasn't easy for her. Eventually, in her older years, she went to live with one of her daughters and family in LaCrosse, WI. When Congress enacted a law allowing a pension for the widows of Civil War veterans, Bethsheba applied for it. She was turned down because she couldn't prove David was dead. The Bureau of Pensions started an investigation that took years, interviewing friends and neighbors to see if they might know of any reason why David would simply abandon his family. They also interviewed folks in the area of South Dakota where David was supposedly killed,, and sought to find out more about the man who brought the news of Davids' supposed death. Nothing ever turned up...but by now, it was thirty years after the war. David would have been in his 70s. Eventually, somehow, a very much alive David McKinney was found in Grants Pass, Oregon, drawing his own pension. His daughter was dispatched to Oregon and brought him back to LaCrosse, and Bethsheba took him back! It was all a mistunderstanding, he said. (I don't believe that for a second, but apparently Bethsheba did.) They eventually were admitted to the Wisconsin Veteran's Home where they lived out their last few years together.

After our trip to the Home, Megan found a book about the place online and ordered it for me. There, on the cover of the book (and in several other places inside), is that old fountain! I feel complete! There were so many fascinating things about the day. Wish we had gone earlier to ask more questions. We never did find the soldier statue. Maybe next trip...